Sunny - Mona Lisa Darkening

The little creature nodded.

"Just tuck yourself into a ball and roll. When you come to a stop, fly. Just fly away." With those terse instructions, I sent the little gargoyle rolling from me like a big, awkward bowling ball.

Spinning around, crouching low, I tripped my closest pursuer. He went down with a jarring crash. Unfortunately. I couldn't follow up and make sure he stayed down, I had to deal with the others. I risked a quick glance to see that the little gargoyle had come to a stop and was on his feet, flapping his wings. He was trying, but he wasn't able to fly yet. Too young or perhaps too weakened. My heart sank. It wasn't looking too good for us.

A warning shout came from one of the bull dheus who had stayed behind, the one with the darkest hair, Demetrius. He gestured up toward a flash of movement in the sky. At first I thought it was the imp returning. But the wings were much larger. I gaped at the creature coming toward us, feeling awe at the majestic sight — a gargoyle, a fully grown one, cutting across the sky with stunning speed and effortless ease.

That momentary inattention cost me. A bull dheu crashed into me and took me to the ground. His sword came whooshing down, glinting red in the sky's reflected light. I had a moment to pray, Please, Goddess, lend me strength. Then my hand latched over the hand holding the hilt, and I looked up into Miles's familiar blue eyes as we fought for control of the sword — a losing battle for me with the momentum of the downstroke already behind him.

I twisted out of the way, and the blade came slicing down, right where my head had been. Miles was strong, but one solid blow to the crotch and all that bull dheu strength of his was temporarily put on hiatus. With a sneer and a shove, I pushed him off me.

A whip cut through the air and wrapped around my neck and chest. Damn, did that lash sting! Anger at being struck — at being whipped — filled me, adding to my strength as I grabbed the leather coil and pulled. Surprise splashed across the bull dheu's face as I yanked him off his feet. He obviously hadn't expected me to be that strong. Neither had I. I kicked him in the face, chopped the back of his neck, and down he went and stayed. No others for me to grapple with. The other two, Pietrus and the bull dheu whose teeth he had knocked out, were still chasing after the gargoyle child, and about to run into bigger prey than they had expected or were even aware of.

Like silent death, the big gargoyle swooped down and gored one bull dheu with his thick horns, while delivering a powerful blow to Pietrus with a clawed hand. Both bull dheu went flying away from him like broken and bleeding dolls.

Peeling the whip off my body, I walked over to the first demon I had tripped. He was starting to rise. A kick in the face, a grinding knee into the nose, and he was down once more. A quick glance showed that Miles was still rolling on the ground, clutching his balls. The only ones standing were me, the gargoyle child, and the big scary grown-up version of him.

Wow! was all I could think as we studied each other. He — and it was definitely a he — looked like a dark, ominous thundercloud ready to erupt. Wearing only simple black trousers, he stood over seven and a half feet, taller even than the bull dheus, with a stateliness to his bearing that was at odds with the casualness of his attire. He seemed a natural, if intimidating, creature of this realm. Not something twisted, distorted, changed. The horns just starting to bud on the child were fully grown on the adult male — beautiful black ivory, thicker than my wrist, impressive as hell. So was the heavily defined musculature of his tanklike build. His wings had folded up neatly on his back, so that had I not seen them, I would never have guessed at their presence. The greater density and weight I had felt when carrying the child was clearly evident in the big, looming male before me. He was formidably large and savage-looking, from the broad square head, wide flat nose, thin lips, and smooth charcoal-gray skin, to his proud, intelligent black eyes. The blood smeared on his horns, dripping down his face, added the perfect, dramatic scary touch.

Bull dheus, no problem. I'd tackle one in the blink of an eye. But this huge, angry gargoyle standing before me was someone I never wanted to tangle with.

Finished with his quick assessment of me and my apparent lack of threat, his claws retracted, and he turned his attention to the boy. With a happy gurgling cry, the little gargoyle tottered toward the big fearsome male. He scooped the child up with a gentleness that eased the breath I'd been unconsciously holding. My body relaxed as they communicated in rolling trills, deep consonants, and quick echoing syllables that flowed together with a sliding musical cadence.

"My son, Ghemin, says that you risked yourself to help him."

It was strange to hear such a savage-looking creature speaking in so civilized a manner. What had he said? Oh yeah, something about me helping his son.

I nodded, unable to find words as I beheld these creatures of legend — gargoyle.

His gaze darted briefly behind me, and his wings snapped open like dark sails on a ship. "Come." He held a hand out to me in imperious command, cradling his son in his other arm. I went to him and almost took his hand before remembering what touch had done to the child.

"I can't," I said, snatching back my hand. "I'll hurt you."

The gargoyle looked at me with a fierce, impatient scowl. "I am full-grown. You cannot hurt me if I do not wish it. Come now, quickly."

I grabbed his hand and had a moment to marvel over the smoothness of his skin, softer than it looked. Then we were lifting into the air.

"Hang on," said the gargoyle. "Wrap your arms around my waist."

As my feet left the ground, I not only wrapped my arms around him but clamped my legs around him, too, clinging to him tighter than a monkey wrapped around a tree. And that's what he felt like, a tree — as big around as a hundred-year-old oak, and maybe even more solid. I had a moment to wonder at the great strength in those wings — none of us were lightweights, him least of all — a couple of seconds to feel the powerful flexing of his back muscles beneath my hands and realize that we were moving, but slowly, at half the speed with which he had flown in, when a warning trill sounded from Ghemin.

"Hold tight!" the gargoyle said, and tilted sharply to the right. An arrow whizzed by, dangerously close. Two more followed in quick succession. I looked down and saw Gilford, Demetrius, and Rupert shooting arrows at us. The other bull warriors whose asses we'd kicked were running back toward them, no doubt to grab their own bows from their supply sacks. The one who I was really worried about, though, was Pietrus, who had brought the imp down with one single, accurate shot. I watched Pietrus pick up his bow.

"Careful" I said. "This next arrow coming… his aim is very accurate. He'll go for your wings."

The arrow was unleashed and came at us with frightening speed. The gargoyle dipped sharply down, and it overshot us.

"Yup. he's aiming for your wings." And he had a target maybe three times bigger than what that scrawny imp had offered him, and at a much closer distance.

Another torrent of arrows flew up at us and the gargoyle turned to face them. Unfortunately, it exposed us, Ghemin and I. The gargoyle snatched an arrow out of the air just before it struck his son. A deft shift of his lower body, and I felt an arrow whiz by my right leg, missing it by an inch. Another powerful twist of his body, and another arrow whistled past my ear.

When the immediate danger passed, the gargoyle dropped the arrow he'd snatched out of the air — nothing useful to be done with it, I guess — and flapped his wings, lifting us higher with concentrated effort, not so much going forward as straight up. I understood his reasoning when we hit a strong air current that caught his wings and lifted us up fast enough, powerfully enough, to drop my stomach down to my knees, the way a fast elevator going up sometimes does. We rode the strong wind, soaring up and away in a sudden sprint of speed, increasing the distance between us and our erstwhile archers down below more and more with each passing second.